


what she knows you ain't had time to learn

by trench



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: And Second Time, Established Relationship, F/M, First Time, LadyNoir - Freeform, Pillow Talk, Pre-Reveal Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, ladybug bosses chat around and he likes it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:53:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27834094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trench/pseuds/trench
Summary: Ladybug had tempered her expectations. She figured it’d be awkward, requiring lots of course correction, maybe a bit of demonstration, no matter how well they usually clicked. Nothing they couldn’t work around and improve.Definitelynothing that would leave her melting into the mattress, clutching at the sheets to keep the feeling of it from burning her up, unable to think past wanting.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 5
Kudos: 155





	what she knows you ain't had time to learn

**Author's Note:**

> first ml fic, classy as ever

Ladybug sprawls boneless, gaping up at the ceiling, questioning the very foundations of her sense of self. Her whole body feels glorious. She’s just barely got her breathing under control, never mind the flush she knows is glowing in her cheeks. If she tried to stand up her legs wouldn’t hold her. A satisfying ache blooms in her lower back. Her heart is going crazy in her chest and may never slow down again. The sound of the sink running through the half open bathroom door mocks her. And is he _humming?_

The faucet shuts off. Chat steps out with a dripping washcloth and bounds onto the bed, snuggling up next to her. “Here,” he drops the cloth on her belly, “I hope I warmed it up enough.” When she doesn’t respond he drags it hesitantly downward. “Should I—”

She snatches it up. She is not letting Chat fuck her into the astral plane _and_ tenderly clean her up after. She scrubs the cloth between her legs and flings it away. It hits the wall with a wet smack. They both watch it slide pathetically to the floor. Chat giggles, stroking his hand along her side. Her stomach flips under his touch. Ladybug fumes.

“My lady,” Chat says softly, lips at her ear. “Was it good for you?”

That does it.

She whacks him. “I can’t believe you!”

She’d tempered her expectations. She figured it’d be awkward, requiring lots of course correction, maybe a bit of demonstration, no matter how well they usually clicked. She’d have to do a lot of the work to get herself off and then probably keep herself interested while she waited him out. Or maybe he’d even go off early. Nothing they couldn’t work around and improve. 

If Chat had his cat ears, they’d be flat against his head. As it is, his eyes go wide under his store bought mask. “It wasn’t good?”

Honestly, she’d expected nothing special, aside from the trust and closeness they always share. Definitely nothing that would leave her melting into the mattress, clutching at the sheets to keep the feeling of it from burning her up, unable to think past wanting. 

“I came three times,” Ladybug says slowly. “We went for—” she glances to the clock on the nightstand and instead finds it knocked upside down on the floor, nestled in the pile of their clothes. “Nearly three hours.”

“Yeah we did,” he purrs. 

“What the fuck, Chat!”

He squints. “You’re mad at me because the sex was _too_ good?”

She huffs, looking away.

“Aw, bug,” he coos. She can hear that insufferable grin. “Have a little faith in me, huh? You thought I’d hump you for five minutes then pass out?”

She glares at him. “Yes.” 

“Okay, fair.” He wriggles closer still, propping his chin on her shoulder. “But why are you upset that I didn’t? You said you enjoyed yourself.”

Of course Chat wants to debrief their first time. Ladybug’s too exposed for this conversation. She tugs up the sheet. “I don’t know.”

Chat breathes against her skin, his hand drawing circles on her side. 

“I guess it was just different than what I pictured. I can’t even make myself come that hard!” She flushes as her voice rises, feeling stupid for being embarrassed and annoyed at him for making her that way.

At least his face goes red too. “Um, back atcha.” 

She smirks at him for a second before remembering she’s mad. “Ugh, whatever. It’s not a big deal. I just feel like, I don’t know. I had to work really hard just to understand what feels good by myself. And you didn’t even have to try.”

He rolls over her, holding himself up on his arms. “LB. I don’t know how much time you’ve spent dreaming about what you want to do together,” he kisses her collarbone, “strategizing about how to respond to every possible reaction,” kisses her neck, “including making flow charts,” her cheek, “and reading every trashy magazine article ever written about how to make a vagina happy—” finally he meets her mouth, lips lingering on hers, “but I’m pretty sure I have you beat.”

“Maybe on the last one,” she mumbles, pushing her face into his chest.

“Believe me, I tried hard. And frequently.”

“Gross.”

“But it paid off, didn't it?” He waggles his eyebrows—it still catches her off guard, seeing them behind the edge of the mask—and drops back down beside her. “You know, I was worried you’d laugh at me.”

She frowns. “Really? Chat, I wouldn’t do that. I mean, unless you deserved it.” That didn’t come out right. “I mean—”

“I know. I do some dumb shit sometimes. But you don’t laugh when it counts.” He shrugs. “But I still worried.” 

She cards her hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I guess we were both nervous. Next time, you don’t worry, and I won’t be pissed at you for not being an awkward fumbling disappointment. Deal?”

“No, no. You want awkward? I can do awkward,” Chat says. He licks a wide stripe up her shoulder. “Mmm, arm.”

She squirms out of his hold, laughing. “Cut it out.”

“But my lady, we haven’t had bad enough sex yet. At this rate I’ll never tempt you back.” 

“You can tempt me back next Friday night.”

He looks at her with dark eyes. “Sold.”

She cups her hand around the back of his neck and kisses him. He tilts his chin up for her and his fingers tighten on her hip, but he doesn’t open his mouth until she does. She loves when he follows her lead. Warmth spreads through her.

“Minou,” she says, brushing his lips. He shivers against her.

“Yeah?” he croaks.

She takes his hand and slides it down.

“You—again?”

“Mhmm.” 

His fingers move with sure intent. Her gut clenches up in anticipation. Then he stops.

She pulls away from the bite mark she’d been renewing behind the hinge of his jaw. “What is it?” 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he says softly, glancing up from under his eyelashes. “I need you to show me.”

“Chat,” she groans, “just go ahead.” She pushes her hips up. 

A pink blush spills across his cheeks. He bites his lip. “I want to. What do I do?” 

“Whatever you did the other three times,” Ladybug says, trying to keep her own face under control. 

“But how? I want to make you feel good.” He ducks his head. “But I don’t know how.”

She squeezes her thighs together. Oh god, why is this doing it for her? All that self-assuredness stripped away, leaving him bowed in front of her, smooth muscle and supplication, waiting on her word. 

She wavers for half a second. If that.

“Slower,” she says.

His hand moves again, lighter now, grazing the bump of her hipbone. 

“Like this?”

“Yeah. Use just the tips of your nails. Up and down.” 

It winds her up, directing him to tease her like that. The way he looks like he’d do it forever if she told him to.

“More now,” she says. Her tone has gone deep, authoritative. She sees Chat swallow. “Lower. Go for it.”

“Go for it?” he squeaks. She can’t tell if he’s still putting on the act or not. 

“Touch me. I’m already wet.” 

“I am jacking off to that for the rest of my life,” he groans. She snorts. He starts clumsily, petting through her hair before pressing his palm against her, playing the game. It feels nice anyway, meeting the unanswered ache, but not nearly as good as she knows it could.

“Spread me open,” she says. Something about his flush makes it easier for her to be forward, but it’s hard not to stutter when those words come out of her mouth.

She slouches down against the headboard and arranges herself flat on the bed. Chat curls around her on his side and lays his head on her shoulder again. He’s bigger than her, but she doesn’t notice it like this. He fits himself into her space without crowding her. 

Well, most of him isn’t crowding her. His dick presses into her leg, deciding whether to wake up. But it’s her turn right now. It seems like this selfishness is working for both of them.

“How many fingers,” he says. His voice cracks. “How deep?”

“Not yet.” She takes his wrist. “First, just,” and she guides him into slicking his fingers through her cunt, dragging the wet up to rub over her clit. 

He circles. “Like this?”

“A little bit harder.”

He presses. Her leg twitches. 

“Just like that.” With each pass it’s building, thrumming, making her jerk. She's strung out and buzzing on the edge of oversensitivity. Sweat runs down from her temples. “Don’t speed up. Keep—keep—”

“I’m not stopping,” he says. “Just like this.” 

She clutches at his arm. It contracts and expands under her grip, muscles working for her, and that’s getting her there as much as the electricity rippling from his touch, pulsing heat all over. She realizes she’s moaning. It’s nearly enough, but not quite what she wants.

“I need your other hand,” she says, scrabbling at him. “Inside, come on.” 

The angle has to be uncomfortable for his wrist. He twists so he can free the arm underneath him anyway and grazes his fingers along the glossy split of her, not dipping in, not pausing his other hand’s rhythm. “How should I—”

“Improvise,” she gasps. 

He pushes in and crooks his fingers up hard, using more pressure than she ever does on herself. The noises when he moves out and back in are obscene. He’s relentless on that spot and it lights her like a struck match. She has to tense up against it, it’s almost too good to take, sinking her nails into his arm and swearing. He's murmuring something but she can't focus, can't hear. And then it fizzes over and she shudders under his steady hands, her foot kicking out wildly, her body straining, caught between moving closer or away.

He touches her through it, dragging it out. She eventually has to push him off. “No more. Holy shit.” She heaves for air. After everything else, that was so intense her eyes are watering.

He retreats but keeps running his hands all over her, kissing her, getting them both sticky with sweat and other things. She can’t bring herself to care. He feels so good against her, wrapping her up, whispering to her. 

Her wits filter back in. Payback time. She reaches for his dick. He yelps. “Sorry,” she says, abashed, and pats it. It’s not half hard in her hand. “Done for tonight?” 

“You wore me out, woman,” he says. “I’m out of commission.”

Pride licks up in her, but more than that, want. She walks two fingers down his chest. “Are you sure?”

Chat gulps. “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll see what I can do.”


End file.
